


80's to today and cigarettes

by ChuckyJohn



Category: Berserk
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Modern AU, kind of a song fic even tho i usually hate song fics, they're in love what more can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 09:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuckyJohn/pseuds/ChuckyJohn
Summary: Even in the cool air of an autumn evening, the little velveteen box burns a hole through her pocket.





	80's to today and cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> uploaded this to tumblr back in september when i first wrote it, but i have an AO3 now, so it's finally time!!

Even in the cool air of an autumn evening, the little velveteen box burns a hole through her pocket.  Her fingertips brush it when she reaches into her coat to fish out her wallet and her chest tightens painfully.   
  
Casca sighs an anxious laugh, smiles at, looks right through, and pays the man behind the register, and walks out of the gas station.  She tosses him a “thanks” over her shoulder, but only the wind catches it.   
  
With her hands shoved into her jacket pockets she jogs back to her truck, a rusty red thing with a white stripe down the side that’s dappled with mud.  In her rickety chariot the princess awaits with mascara running down her face.  She tries blots at her cheeks lightly with the Subway napkins she’d pulled from the glove compartment, her forehead pressed against the fogged-up window.   
  
Casca hops into the driver’s seat and pulls the door closed behind her.  The radio’s gone half-static, but through the fuzz comes the melancholy tinkling of some depressing piano composition.  Farnese sniffles and rubs helplessly at her eyes.   
  
“Here,” Casca passes the pack of cigarettes to Farnese.  “I got ‘em.”   
  
Farnese takes the pack and immediately cracks it open, shoving the plastic wrapping into a cup holder to reside with god knows how much in loose change and the plastic wrapping from her last 5 packs.  She takes one between her pointer and middle finger shakily and gropes around the center console for a lighter.   
  
“I grabbed these when I heard your voice over the phone.”  Casca slides a match book into her palm.   
  
Farnese groans and shoots a look of relief at her girlfriend in the driver’s seat.  “Oh, I love you.”  Cigarette on her lip, she lights a match.   
  
“Mhmmm.”  Casca shifts the truck into gear and head back out into the asphalt.   
  
The sad piano notes continue to tinkle around in the cab of the truck and cut holes in any warmth between them.  Farnese rolls down her window a crack while Casca hits the “SCAN” button.  After a few rounds of static, the radio lands on an 80′s-to-today station that they’d listened to on all of the sunniest summer days.  The crisp air seems to still for just a moment and it’s enough.     
  
…   
  
After a while of listening to bouncy music and the whipping of the wind against the truck, Casca pulls off the blazed trail onto a dirt road.  Farnese has turned the soiled napkins in her lap into a pile of shredded bits of paper with her nails and is now trying to work a hole through the fabric of her dress by the looks of it.  Casca’s eyes flick from Farnese’s hand to the road and back again.  She knows they’re nearing their destination, so, after a deep inhale, she goes for it.   
  
Casca takes Farnese’s hand in her own, grip just tight enough.  Farnese, who’d been on autopilot, doing little more than tapping her cig on the rim of the window when need be with her head pressed against the cool of the glass for quite some time, perked up and was quick to take notice of the woods grown up on either side of them.     
  
“I thought we were just gonna cruise th, the highway for a while- where are we headed?”   
  
Casca squeezes her hand and rubs it with her thumb.  “Farnese, I know I don’t say it near as much as I think it, but y’know how much I love you, right?”   
  
Farnese sits quiet for a moment.  “Of course I do.  You get me better’n anybody these days,” she blubbers a bit, sniffles and laughs and rubs her nose. “I don’t know of anybody else who would think to bring a sad girl matches to perk her up.”   
  
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, Farnese.  You know I’ll always be there when you need out of that god-forsaken mansion of yours, right?  An’ I’m not complaining about being there for you when I say I hate having t’do it.”   
  
Farnese nods and nods and takes a drag.  The woods around them are starting to thin and the road opens up ahead.   
  
“I have really been thinking about that a lot, an’ I…”   
  
Casca pulls off the edge of the road and puts the truck in park.  Directly ahead of them the forest falls away into a large clearing that rolls down in a hillside.  Even through the mussed windshield the sky free of clouds and full to bursting with stars.  Farnese gasps.  Casca holds the velveteen box in one palm and Farnese’s hand in the other.  Farnese’s eyes, shining, look between them and then rise to meet hers.   
  
“I think I’ve had to save you from the same tower a few too many times, Princess.  I want you to come live with me in mine.”   
  
A beat passes with a lip quiver that smothers just about every ounce of confidence Casca has in her.  She breaks the eye contact and scratches the back of her neck with the ring box still in hand, absolutely floundering:  “I mean, I’m not some white knight with a beaut of a gray horse, and I don’t have an even bigger ivory castle or anything, and I- I mean, cut the shit, I haven’t got a lot to offer you besides well, myself, I guess… and that’s not much, but-”   
  
Casca’s gaze flicks up just long enough to notice the torrent of tears streaming down Farnese’s face and Casca’s hold on her hand goes totally slack.   
  
She’s solemn in an instant.  “I’m so, so sorry Farnese.  I didn’t mean t-… I din-”   
  
“Oh shut up, Casca,” Farnese sobs.  “I’m s- I didn’t think this is how I’d get engaged, in a fucking, ancient night dress with- my face- covered- in shit like this-”   
  
“Ooohh nooo, oh no Farny, please, please-” Casca scrabbles for words and the rising beat on the radio catches her attention.  A relieved laugh escapes her.  “Listen, listen-   
  
“C-come on Farnese, at this moment, you mean every-thi-ing…”   
  
Farnese rubs vigorously at her eyes with her coat sleeve and looks up at Casca quizzically.  Nerves have lead Casca to shed her reserved mask and in its place is the silliest smile Farnese has ever seen from her.  Casca keeps singing along.   
  
“W-ith you in that dress, lord I’ve got to confess, my thoughts verge, on,” she laughs, “dirty!”   
  
_ oh come on, Eileen… _   
  
Farnese lightly slaps Casca’s hand and snorts.  Confidence bandaged, Casca brings the velveteen box back into view and flips it open, revealing a ring that’s as celestial in shine as the stars outside the cab of the truck.   
  
Casca’s laughter settles and warmth fills her chest.  She sighs and clears her throat, her silly grin settling back into a gentle smile.  “I mean it.  I know your dad treats you like shit whenever he does take a second to stop and acknowledge you, and your brothers aren’t much better.  I’m not a business type, so I can’t imagine that any of ‘em will be, uh, happy about this, but.  Fuck them, right?  But I mean it.  What d’you think?  Of marrying me?”   
  
Farnese says nothing for a bit.  She flicks the butt of her cig out of the truck window and holds Casca’s hands in her own.   
  
_ These people ‘round here _ __  
_ Wear beat down eyes sunk in smoke dried faces _ __  
_ They’re resigned to what their fate is _ __  
_ But not us, (no never) no not us (no never) _ __  
_ We are far too young and clever _ __  
_ Remember _ __  
_ Too ra loo ra too ra loo rye aye... _ __  
__  
“I think… fuck them, definitely.  And I think that, if you’re okay with marrying this- this raccoon-eyed bitch in a cigarette-burnt dress, that we’ll get on just…  _ just _ fine.”   
  
Casca’s heart drops into her stomach and her silly grin surfaces again.  Farnese’s hand comes up to cup her cheek and she closes the distance between them.  Their lips meet, and when they part Farnese whispers into the space between them:     
  
__ “I wanna hum this tune forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'll die by this ship. might write more in this setting later if the stars align


End file.
